Chelsea Public School

An Abrupt End to an Even More Abrupt Friendship

A Losing Battle

By Dylan Spencer
Chelsea Public School, Grade 11

A million cars must have gone by that day. Every one of them pedal to the metal as if it were a race, and me I was stuck at my godparent's house. My parents had gone to see my grandmother in the hospital for her chemotherapy. They had called the night before and said she was doing great and would be home in the morning. The way I figured all of those cars were headed to see her.

Election Limerick

By Danielle Brooke
Chelsea Public School, Grade 10

Many people are ready to push
Out of office old President Bush
Too many mistakes
This president makes
He'll soon be kicked out on his tush.

I went through my "rebellion" years at a young age when I was in the fifth grade. My friends and I thought that we knew everything, and that we could do whatever we wanted, and that our parents were the worst people around. My friends parents let them do pretty much whatever they wanted, and mine didn't. I couldn't wear make-up, I couldn't wear the clothes that I wanted to wear, and I couldn't listen to the music that I wanted to because all were a little too old for my age, and I didn't see that. So I started sneaking around, lying and not paying attention at school, so not only did my home life suffer, but so did school and because of that I got held back. I hated my parents for doing this to me, my friends were going to move on without me and I just thought that they were trying to control everything that I did and they didn't care about me.

The Elusive Rendezvous

By Damian Coburn
Chelsea Public School, Grade 12

Has there ever been one word that you never did know how to pronounce, what it meant, and always forgot to look it up or ask about? The word that was kept under my radar until this summer was “rendezvous.”
I first encountered this elusive word when I became interested in automobiles. One day, while riding through Barre City with my grandparents I saw this very nice looking Buick SUV. On the back hatch it said, “Buick Rendezvous.” This word became very problematic for me because I had no idea of how to pronounce it. The whole word was difficult and confusing. R-e-n-d-e-z-v-o-u-s. I finally decided after some thought that the correct pronunciation of the word was rend-ze-vous, not ron-day-voo, as it is supposed to be.

Bringing Light to End the Darkness

By Damian Coburn
Chelsea Public School, Grade 12

How I Got my Super Powers

By Danielle Brook
Chelsea Public School, Grade 10

I lived in the suburbs where nothing exciting ever happened. It was a Friday morning, and I was walking to school when I stepped in something green and sticky. I assumed it was gum.
"Gross!" I groaned. I took a twig and tried to scrape the stuff off of my shoe. Then there was a hissing sound as the twig caught on fire. The "gum" melted through my shoe, then my sock. I ripped them off frantically. The stuff was on my bare foot. It didn't seem to be hurting me, but I wasn't going to wait for it to start. I tried to get it off, but everything I used was instantly destroyed. I started screaming like a banshee.
"What's wrong?" A man had noticed my screaming.
"Can't get it off!"

The Typhoon

By Courtney Sanford
Chelsea Public School, Grade 10

As I approach the line I start to feel overwhelmed. I start to second-guess my decision to ride the Typhoon but I grit my teeth and get into the line.

Cold, Crisp, Chill
By Samantha Bonasera
Chelsea Public School, Grade 12

It was a stormy night, nothing out of the ordinary. I was sleeping softly and tight in my bed, when all of a sudden my body jolts back from the strike of lightening striking my house. Everything shakes, my lamp falling to the hard wooden floor, shattering into a million pieces. My light that was on for reading shuts off, and the whole house turns pitched black. With my blankets pulled up to my shaking lips, my eyes turn facing the door. “Creek,” went the wooden floor just outside of my door.

Cold, Crisp, Chill
By Samantha Bonasera

It was a stormy night, nothing out of the ordinary. I was sleeping softly and tight in my bed, when all of a sudden my body jolts back from the strike of lightening striking my house. Everything shakes, my lamp falling to the hard wooden floor, shattering into a million pieces. My light that was on for reading shuts off, and the whole house turns pitched black. With my blankets pulled up to my shaking lips, my eyes turn facing the door. “Creek,” went the wooden floor just outside of my door.

He says it is my fault
But I never said a word
I say it is his fault
But we are both to blame
I had the chance
He had the chance
But yet something
Says no
And yet something says go
I do
But I can't
I shouldn't
But I want to
One is always taken
One is not
But it is not my fault
Or his
It is there fault

Pizza, Something I Feel Strongly About

Dave Lembke
Chelsea Public School, Grade 12

The Fair

By Drew Dudley
Chelsea Public School, Grade 11

When the fair comes town
Excitement rises
But why?
The music, lights, people.
It’s all there is one spot
Continuously running into people you know
Meeting new faces.
The food
Delicious and full of grease.
But still
It’s all eaten.
The lights when night begins to fall
Filling the sky
Almost as if it’s day
Letting the world see everything.
The rides
For all ages
The rush of excitement for 90 seconds
The wind in your face
Not knowing where you’re going to end.
But at midnight
The excitement ends there
But still
The memories of the day and night linger.

Andrew Richardson
Young Writers Project
Writing prompt #30

The Train Goes Nowhere

The old man sat by his lonesome towards the back of the train, and a spider began to crawl up his beard as if to say hello. Nothing was the same, now that everything; his family, his job, his memories, his life, were now lost. The old man his eyes from the deep sleep that he was put into.
He noticed a drunkard in the corner. She took to coma like a tired boy teeters back and forth because he’s so exhausted that he can barely stand up.
Five men were in the other corner playing dice. The cup, which had been used foe decades, looked like it had been thrown away, then reused a thousand times over. But the dice still rolled out of it and down to the other end of the train cart like an avalanche crashing down a mountain.
Now, as the fog steamed through the gunshot holes in the train like poisonous gas fills up a room, he took a good look at the people he had encountered and he noticed that his life was not over. He had just begun to live. He didn’t want to be stuck on this train for the rest of his life.
So, the old man brushed the spider off of his beard as if to say goodbye and he shaved his beard and jumped off of the train and entered the new world in which he had been searching for his whole life.

My Daily Walk to Carson Hall

By William Murawski
Chelsea Public School, Grade 12

What do people think when they pass one another on the street?
Some nod – a simple gesture of politeness, but do they really mean it?
Once in a rare while a friendly hello escapes one’s mouth…
More often, sadly, people appear too self-absorbed to acknowledge the existence of others.
Others yet are intimidating; to smile or to nod would be taken as an offensive remark.

Much can be learned about a stranger’s character in this manner.
Do they walk upright, eyes on the horizon, eager to meet their destination?
Or do they watch their feet as they scrape the ground with each monotonous step, as though they have neither ambition nor excitement in their life?

Some read the newspaper as they walk – a subtle signal that they have no interest in the world around them…
Some walk briskly as time is of the essence.
Others amble, taking the time to soak in the sun’s rays.